Wanderlust
by MrsRoy
Summary: They're trying to erase the past by adding something better to their future. Love is the bad, as well as the better, not lived alone, but as a journey together. AU EO.
1. Prologue

**I don't own them, I just share.**

**This is teenage EO. If you don't like it, I suggest you don't read, that way, you can't complain about it!**

**Thanks again to the amazing Cori!  
**

* * *

There's another bruise on her arm. It's black and blue and spreads like wild fire. It's tender to the touch, and she shivers as he runs his fingers across the colorful blemish.

The slate shingles on the landing beneath his bedroom window are cold and exposed, but it doesn't stop him from holding her. Every night she comes to him, every new mark that taints her precious veneer, makes his grip a little tighter.

She's known what she is from the moment she was old enough to realize. _A mistake_, her mother would tell her_, the bane of my existence, just another problem that causes my heart to fester._

Elliot tells her that he's glad, because one woman's trash is another man's treasure.

"I know that she loves me. She's been through so much, El."

He shakes his head. Every blow to the face, every black eye, every split lip, it's not love, just the culmination of his father's rage, and shame, an abuse of privilege that casts a shadow the length of a lifetime.

"She won't stop, Liv. She's an alcoholic."

Olivia scoffs, because he'll never take his own advice. "You're Catholic, Elliot. Your father carries a cross in his pocket, he doesn't believe in abortion and he makes you say an evening prayer. I'm not religious, but I'm pretty sure the bible doesn't say that it's ok for your dad to beat you, Elliot. He knows what he's doing, my mother doesn't."

"We should run away, just you and me."

Olivia laughs, and the vibrations echo across Elliot's chest. He covers her mouth, as the noise will carry, but then he remembers that his father is on a job and his mother has locked herself in the bedroom again. He could just tell her it was the wind and she probably wouldn't think twice about it.

"El, I'm fifteen, and you're seventeen," she chuckles. "What are we going to do for money?"

"We leave the city; we'll go to Orange County, it's further out, away from the boroughs. Do you trust me, Olivia? Do you?"

"We'd still be in the state, still metro, what about your father? He could still track us down."

"It's not Queens, Liv, and you didn't answer my question. Do you trust me?"

"Elliot."

"I'm serious. I can do odd jobs, I'm fit and I'm strong. I'll take care of you, Liv. Do you trust me?"

The biting east winds carry a genial breeze that settles over them, that sows an acorn in the heart of fall. Olivia settles back into Elliot's embrace, they know that the rain will soon follow; he does not want her to be cold.

"You know that I do, Elliot. I do trust you."

She fits her fingers into his, lacing them, and he strokes the palm of her hand with his thumb.

"We're just kids, Elliot. We can barely take care of ourselves as it is."

"Liv, I, um … I um … I think I might love you, Olivia."

"Geez, Elliot, that's deep. Just what a girl wants to hear."

"God, would you give me a break, I'm a guy. I don't know about emotions and shit like that."

"Huh," she teases his mercilessly, "You took the Lords name in vain, Elliot Stabler."

"Yeah," he frowns knowingly, "Well what has God done for me lately, Liv? What has he done for us?"

Olivia shrugs; she's had no reason to be a religious person. "I don't know," she pauses, "But maybe he realized that we needed each other, El."

He squeezes her hand and she smiles.

"You really want to do this, El?"

"As long as you're safe, I don't care where we go, Liv."

"I can take care of myself."

"Liv," he holds her arm up to the light that filters through his flimsy curtains and examines her arm like he's some emergency room doctor "This is not ok. Besides, I'm just one less moth to feed. Joe won't care. It's not like he gives a crap now."

Olivia takes a deep breath, "I know you think I'm too young, that I don't know anything, Elliot. But I know that I've never felt this way before you," she inclines her head, suddenly shy, suspended in a reverie of thought.

"It's just you and me against the world, Livvie Love."

"Elliot," she says seriously, her stoic face suddenly front and centre. "Do you really think we can do this? When my mom finds out that I'm gone … Elliot, she needs me."

"I need you too, Liv, you've got me, I'm here, I'll always be here. Liv," he pulls back from her for a moment, twisting the ring on his finger. "I want you to have this, it's not much, but it's all I've got and it's important to me."

"Elliot," she gasps, "It's your championship ring, El, I can't take this. You left the Basketball team just to get this. You earned this ring, your throwing arm; I know what you went through. You hate football."

"I want you to have it, Liv. It's a promise, that I'll you'll always have me."

"It's heavy," she giggles, as he slides it onto her finger.

"Yeah, it's made out of some silvery kind of shit; so you might have to wear it on your thumb."

"I could wear it on a chain, around my neck. Maybe when my fingers grow a bit more, I could wear it then. Thank you, Elliot. I feel like a princess. No one ever made me feel special."

"Whatever you want. I just wanted you to have it because you're special, Liv, special to me."

He places his lips to the side of her cheek, cupping her face, and turns his head to meet her mouth. Their lips barely touch, and her cheeks are red, but she feels like she could let go now. She can let go because Elliot will be there to catch her.

He breaks away from her, touching their foreheads together. "We'll make it work, Liv. Don't worry about it, it'll be fine. We don't need school; we'll make it on our own."

"I hope you're right, El. Without school diploma's, there's not much we can do."

"I'll take care of you."

"I know, El."

"Hey," he takes her hand, pulling her to her feet, steadying her with his arms. "Want to stay here tonight? Dad's gone, and Mom's crazy. She won't even care. We can just … you know … cuddle or something?"

"Yeah, why not. 'Snot like mom is going to miss me, and I do like snuggling with you."

He guides her safely across the channeled lip of roofing, his hand fixed at the small of her back. He supports her weight, as she lifts herself across the window ledge and into the warmth of Elliot's bedroom.

He doesn't wait for her, he's doesn't hide his body from her. He tosses his jacket across the end of his bed, lowering the zipper on his jeans and letting the fabric drop to the floor. He knows that she's turned away from him, that she'll sleep in her knickers and her hoody, that she's probably already under the duvet with her eyes closed, just waiting for him.

"Come on, El, I'm cold."

He rolls his eyes, peeling the grey t-shirt that fits him like a second skin. "You won't die of frostbite, Liv. Not like that time we camped out in Time Square just to see the Christmas lights."

"Your nose was so red that you could have been Rudolph, El."

"Ha ha, move over, bed hog."

Before she can complain, he scoops her up into his arms and lets his fingers go to work on her ribs. He tickles her just to hear the sound of her voice, to know that she's laughing, that today, is a good day and it's all because of him.

He's pretty sure her mother's never done it, that she's never heard her daughters laughter carry like a symphony. He likes the fact that he's her first. He wants to be her one and only.

His hand moves across her abdomen, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of her bikini cut panties. He caresses her hip, warm fingertips tracing circles, etching words upon her supple skin.

Her body stills and she hitches her breath. She can't swallow the knot caught in her throat.

"Elliot," she pushes his hand away. "Elliot, please."

His hand stills. He feels ashamed; he's such a selfish bastard. She's the epitome of beauty, but he made her a promise and she deserves this innocence.

"Liv," he rolls onto his side, away from her. "I'm sorry baby. I … I wasn't even thinking."

"Elliot," she cups the side of his face, "Elliot, look at me please. I know," she begins, "that this is hard for you, that you want this, I do too. But right now, Elliot, right now I know it would hurt a lot, and I want it to be perfect, because it will be with you, El. I promise."

"I wouldn't hurt you, Olivia. Never. I'm such an idiot, I promised to take care of you and I'm already doing the wrong thing."

Olivia tugs at the zipper attached to her sweatshirt. Lowering it, she parts the two halves and pushes up her camisole.

"Give me your hand, Elliot." She fits her breast into his palm. "Baby steps, yeah?"

Elliot's thumb grazes her nipple. Christ, it's hard, like a bud that closes when there's a chill in the air. If he's lucky, he won't come undone in his pants. There's a thick bead of moisture at the head of his dick, and he's trying to picture an ugly man, an ugly _old_ man.

Christ almighty. She feels perfect. He's about to cock it all up, because he's a teenage boy and his hand is on his best friends boob, and she's in his bed, _naked, ugly, old, fat man._

"Elliot?"

"Yeah, Liv?"

"We'll be ok, won't we?" She fits herself into the curve of his body, her head upon the same pillow as his.

"Yeah, babe, we're going to be fine."


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks be to Cori for the Beta!**

**I don't own them, I just share.**

**For Anna - Who inspires me. 3  
**

* * *

It's the crack of dawn, still dark out, and Elliot's beat up; rusting, red pickup hums steadily as it follows the great Hudson River up state.

Olivia sits beside him in the passenger seat, her body curled around his grey sweat shirt. Her feet tucked up under her and her toes twinkle with their splash of pastel pink polish.

They'd counted their dollars before they left and made sure the gas tank was full. There's not much of it, but Elliot had assured her that what they have will be enough. He's not sure how he managed to get away with hocking his mothers pearls, and right now, he doesn't really care. He just wants to watch the rise and fall of Olivia's chest. All he can do is smile.

She looks fragile, vulnerable. She requires special handling, and he's not afraid because like a beautiful star, he holds opportunity in the palm of his hand. Time is his, to sacrifice at his will.

He thinks about her in their future, barefoot and disheveled. Its summer time, and she wears a cotton dress as she stands at the kitchen sink. The fabric sticks to her skin as the humidity rises. He watches a bead of moisture as it trails the column on her neck. She's his, and she's perfect.

If she ever caught him looking at her like this, she'd have his ass.

Her lips twitch for a second, and he has to remind himself not to take his eyes off the road. She'll be the death of him. It's bad enough that she has him wrapped around her little finger; it's like some kind of ridiculous, invisible bond that transcends boundaries, that makes him want to throw in his faith and live in sin for the rest of his life.

He'd worship her if it were feasible, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Olivia. Amen to that.

The early morning dawn begins to flicker across the open road, extending the salutations of a new day. Elliot has seen the sun rise before, often with Olivia by his side, but there's something about this situation that stirs hope within his veins. A new beginning on the right path.

They're not in any kind of hurry. This great escape will be stippled with pit stops because he knows that she's a young woman who doesn't really want to squat next to a poison ivy bush somewhere along the highway.

The shadows leave her precious face as the sun illuminates the interior of the truck. They've come this far, there's no turning back now. The cracks in the dashboard seem more pronounced with each passing day, the speedometer is lagging and he's pretty sure that the tires on the front axle are bald. But they're all just details at the moment. Nothing is going to stop them. They're getting out of dodge.

Olivia stirs beside him, stretching her arms above her head. She's nimble, like a feline, and he imagines her arching her back against the backdrop of their dimly lit room. She looks as though she could reach for the stars, slender arms extended beyond her perceived level of confidence. She sheds a protective layer with each milestone that tumbles forth into the freedom of her lap.

She catches his gaze, and a quickly as their eyes meet, they turn away, back to the job at hand.

"Like what you see, Stabler?" She laughs at his expense.

"You're hot and you expect me not to look? I'm not one of those monks who doesn't even know about sex, Liv."

"So that's why you have a condom in your wallet."

Unsure of what to say, Elliot merely shrugs, too caught up in his own sense of embarrassment.

"That's real mature, Elliot. I thought you were different."

"Liv. I am. Come on."

Olivia turns to look out of the passenger's window. The view serves as a distraction, at least for now.

"I didn't realize there were this many trees in the state of New York."

"Liv ..."

"George Washington was from Orange County you know, the very first president of the United States of America."

Elliot changes his tone, trying desperately to raise a reaction.

"Olivia, please. Would you just listen to me already? Don't make me pull over, because I will, if that's what it takes."

She sags, the small of her back pushed firmly against the thread bare seat, she turns her head reluctantly.

"I'm listening."

"Olivia," Elliot tries to placate her. "You're a beautiful girl. I've never felt like this before. Ok. What I had with Danielle, it was nothing. Just some stupid bet with the boys that got out of hand. Tommy didn't think I could make it with the _Stunner_; I had to try and prove him wrong. But we didn't have sex. Not ever."

"It's totally fine, Elliot. I don't care." The lies come easily enough. She can't bear the thought of upsetting him, but she can't hide the tear that slips from the corner of her eye and rolls down the length of her nose, falling onto the sweatshirt in her hands.

Elliot remains quiet; he's focused upon the road, the avenue upon which their hopes and dreams lay, the gentle slope, without sudden turnings, without signposts to direct them as they forge their own passage. He doesn't see her tears.

There's a gas station that's only a few miles away from their current location. He knows that when he pulls his pickup into the parking lot, that he'll lock the doors, and talk to her calmly, rationally. He'll make promises he's not sure he can even keep, but he'll mean them just the same. He'll talk to her until his voice is hoarse and his lips begin to whistle.

Somewhere along the way, his pride gets the better of him.

"I've never even told another girl that I love her, Liv. At least you know we would have been safe."

"Elliot."

"If you want to go home, I can turn around and we'll both go back. We'll make up some really lame excuse. You want to go back to that, Liv?"

"No," she sighs.

"There's a gas station, not too far ahead of us. I'm sure there's a diner there. Do you feel like breakfast? I know you love blueberry pancakes."

"Sure," Olivia smiles, chuckling quietly to herself, "Because I know that you're terrible when it comes to cooking."

"I can make toast."

"Elliot," she teases, "You live on take away food. How you're able to keep your girlish figure is one of sciences greatest mysteries."

"Ha, ha. You're so funny. You should be a comedian."

* * *

"Liv, if you wanted bacon you should have ordered it instead of eating mine. We can afford a strip of bacon."

"El, we need to be careful. We don't have a lot of cash right now. Besides, sharing won't kill you."

Olivia licks her greasy fingers without a care in the world; she's completely unaware of Elliot's unwavering gaze. She reaches for the silver napkin holder with her free hand. Struggling to release the flimsy white serviette, she pulls her hand away with a fist full of crumpled paper.

He's not sure how she's managed to make the simple act of eating bacon so unbearably sexy, but he knows that he can't move right now lest she see his appreciation where it commands her attention from the confines of his denim jeans.

"So, how long do we have to go before we get there?"

Elliot shakes his head, dislodging all of the impure thoughts. He wants to be able to talk to her with a clear conscience.

"We've probably got another hour and a half or so to go. I thought we could stop off somewhere along the way."

"We could have a picnic; I'll get us something for brunch."

"Who's the big spender now?"

"Elliot," she frowns, a wisp of dark hair falling from behind her ear to cover the apple of her cheek. "It's a few sandwiches. It's not going to hurt us."

"Peanut butter?"

"How about cheese?"

"Fine," he feigns annoyance, "Cheese it is."

His eyes fall upon his ring where is sits nestled between the swell of her breasts. It looks right. He hopes that one day she'll be his wife, that one day he can truly pronounce her to be his. He'll give her a proper ring then, one that she can wear proudly, one that will let the world know that Olivia Benson is taken.

"El," she fingers the ring, an action he's witnessed a hundred times over since he presented her with it. "We're really going to be ok, aren't we? I mean, it's just that we're both so young. I ... I'm scared, Elliot."

He reaches across the table, taking her hand, folding it in his own so that his fingers curl around her knuckles. His thumb strokes her palm as he tries to soothe her.

"Liv, I promise, that I will take care of you. Nothing bad is going to happen to us. Livia, I want to marry you. I want to be your husband. I don't care how old me are. I love you; it's my job to take care of you."

"El, there's no way. I'm fifteen, there's months until my sixteenth birthday. Who's going to marry us, do you think a Minister will do it, because I really don't think ..."

"I don't care. We can wait until your old enough to get the certificate, but you have my ring, we love each other. There's no reason why I can't call you my wife. I mean, unless you don't want me? Is that it, Liv. Do you want somebody else?"

"No, Elliot. No. You're my best friend, I ... I love you. You've always taken care of me, I trust you with my life."

"What do you say, Liv? Want to be Mrs. Stabler?"

Olivia doesn't hesitate. "Yes, of course I do, Elliot, of course. Does this mean we need to have a honeymoon night?"

"Liv," Elliot fiddles with her fingers, smoothing them out and tracing the length of her slender digits. "Nothing until you're is ready. I promise. Tonight, I just want to hold you, our first night together without anybody else around."

"El?"

"Mmm," he shifts his gaze back to her face, to her eyes. They shine a light for him, one that he will always follow.

"What happens if they find us? Your father, he won't stop. He'll punish you, Elliot. You know what Joe is like."

"Nobody is going to find us. Mr. and Mrs. Stabler. Who's going to assume that it's us? They know that there's no way we could ever get married without their permission. Let me worry about that. I can worry for the both of us, Liv. I won't let anybody hurt you. Not ever."

"I know," she smiles, "I trust you."

"So, come on then Mrs. Stabler, bring your shake with you, we've got some exploring to do."

Elliot slides out of the booth, offering Olivia his hand; he pulls her to her feet and embraces her. He is fiercely protective because he knows that even though they've overcome the greatest of odds, the road ahead is lined with obstructions. He's living for her now, his wife, his family.

Olivia pulls away from his arms for a moment and places her lips upon his, easing herself into their kiss, she's determined to give herself to him completely.

"How about you fill the gas tank, and I get some food for us to take on the road."

"Ok. Don't take too long. I want to get going as soon as we can."

Olivia watches her 'husband' disappear through the double doors, the silver bell at the top tingles as he makes his way outside without her.

"You alright, Love? Have a fight with your man did you?"

A warm hand upon her shoulder brings Olivia out of her daze and back to the present. She smiles nervously and shakes her head.

"No, we're fine. He um, he just asked me to marry him," she smiles again, this time a little wider.

"A fine looking young man, he ought to make a mighty fine husband, Honey Pie."

"Yeah. He sure will."

"You need anything else before you go?"

"Ah, yeah," Olivia stutters, thinking about the sandwiches, their picnic and the fact that this Elliot is her husband, which inevitably leads to a wedding night. She swallows the thought and acts as though everything is suddenly peachy. "Sandwiches please, two with cheese on white bread, one without the crusts."

And while you're at it, she thinks, do you think you could give me a quick rundown on the ultimate joys of sex, because I honestly don't know what I've got myself into.


	3. Chapter 2

**I don't own them. I just share.**

**All my love to Cori for her help! This one is for Anna Banana because I love her!**

**AN - Please note, there has been an age change for both Elliot and Olivia in previous chapters. (Elliot is 17. Olivia is now 15.)  
**

* * *

"The Rusty Nail, El? Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor for sex or something?"

Elliot glances across the center console of his truck, rolling his eyes at Olivia. "It's cheap, and it's clean. That's all I'm worried about right now."

"Elliot, it's a creepy motel," she visibly shudders.

He takes her hand in his, stroking his thumb across her knuckles in a show of affection.

"Liv, you know that I would do anything for you. But right now, this is all that we can afford. It's a roof over our heads until we can find something permanent."

"Fine. I'm tired and I don't want to argue."

Sliding out from the confines of the stuffy cab, Elliot holds open Olivia's door, taking a duffel from her feet and slinging it over the bulk of his shoulder. He extends an arm and takes her hand, tugging so that her feet rest firmly upon the pavement. Olivia stands, stretching her arms up over her head and yawning, ready to retire for the evening.

"Come on Liv. I won't let anybody hurt you."

Elliot places his free arm around his girl, leading her into the alcove that conceals the front desk of the establishment.

The woman behind the counter smiles, reluctantly sharing a whiff of foul breath that makes the two cringe. The sight of the woman's teeth, black and brittle, like decomposing rot is almost too much for Olivia to bear.

Elliot tightens his grip on her waist, drawing her closer to his side for protection.

"Look it you lovebirds," the thin woman says. Her hair is unkempt, and she clearly does not take pride in her personal hygiene. "Fa you two's, I'm just gonna make it thirty smackers for a room. That's special rates for you sweetheart," she licks her lips, inkling her head in Elliot's direction.

Elliot swallows nervously.

"Thirty dollars for the week?"

The woman nods, swiping at the length of thin, grey hair that falls across her eyes and pushing it into the rest of the birds nest.

Elliot reaches into his back pants pocket, prying open the leather wallet and thumbing through the neatly stacked notes. He counts out thirty dollars, handing over three crisp, green ten dollar bills to the woman.

Her eyes twinkle with delight at the sight of a quick fix. It's seems to comfort Elliot, as he hopes that no longer will he been seen as her only source of immediate pleasure.

She hands him a brass key with the number twenty two scratched haphazardly into the wooden tag.

"Twenty-two," The woman crows. "'Smy best room. Out tha door and down to ya left," the owner calls after the two as they make a hasty retreat.

Elliot locates the relevant door with ease and slips the key into the hole, turning the lock and reaching for the light switch as the door swings against his weight. He's trying desperately to shed more light upon the situation, even though he's afraid to look.

Olivia is close behind him, his shirt bunch between her fingers as she keeps her body pressed to his, her nervous breath tickling his back through the fabric of his tee.

"Liv," he says, assessing their surroundings, noting the flaws. "Come on, it's not so bad, see."

Olivia shifts, coming to stand at Elliot's side, scoping out the room and cataloging her first impressions.

The green shag pile carpet is worn, and marbled with mottled stains that look like they've been there for years. There's a bed in the middle of the room, coin operated for that vibrating sensation that reminds her of a carnival ride. The kind that makes you want to purge after you've binged on corn dogs and colorful candy floss.

Elliot locks the door behind them and draws the chain across the slide and into the hole for the night so that she can hear it click. The only way anybody is getting in is by sheer force and will.

"At least the bedding looks relatively clean," he muses.

"I packed us a blanket. You can't be too careful, Elliot."

He folds her up in his arms, leaning his head on her shoulder, his thumb brushing her tummy through her gingham button down shirt.

"It will get better, Liv. I promise."

He traces the shape of his ring where it rests on the chain that lies between her breasts. He swears that he will buy a real one, made of gold and pretty diamonds, one that glistens when she shimmies around in the luminous rays of the midday sun.

"Elliot?" Olivia tried to rouse his attention. "Elliot ..." She asks again, elbowing him in the middle for good measure.

"Huh?"

"Where were you just now, you didn't hear a word I said, did you?"

"Sorry, I was thinking. This is going to work out, we'll get it sorted Liv. I made you a promise, and I'll make sure it happens for us."

She turns in his arms, pressing her nose to the neck of his t-shirt, inhaling the scent that is Elliot. It's exotic, the overwhelming sense of desire she feels makes her dizzy. Her head becomes cloudy, like a mirage that sustains the delirious as they come to expire. But he's real, and she can touch him, she can bask in his bounty and sip from his cup of life.

"I know." She breathes the words into his skin, willing them to seep into his pores like an effervescent shot of adrenalin. Because she does know, and there's nobody else she trusts with the sentiment.

"Come on, it's time we got you into bed little miss."

"So that I can sleep, or just for your benefit? I mean, you wouldn't be trying to get into my pants would you Stabler?"

"Bite my ass, Benson. You mean way more to me than that."

"My hero," she purrs. "What would I do without you?"

Elliot lifts her into his arms and carries her over to the bed they will share for the next week or two. He glides effortlessly with her, like a waltz, his steps controlled and methodical.

"Elliot, put me down before you drop me you klutz."

"I won't drop you baby. Trust me."

He sets her down at the foot of the bed and watches her settle on the mattress. He rummages through the khaki duffel, trying to locate the almost thread bare plaid blanket she'd packed for them the previous night.

"It's right at the bottom, it was the first thing I packed, El."

Elliot rolls his eyes and digs around in the bottom of the bag before exclaiming a triumph.

"Got it. Shift up for a second while I lay it over the bed for you."

She stands, watching as he unfolds the linen and places it across the bed that is already dressed. She observes carefully, as he brings each corner to the edge of the bed, brushing with his hand as he goes, smoothing the blanket over so there are no creases. _In her minds eye, he's swaddling their child. Each fold of the blanket, neat as he wraps the baby's flailing limbs. He keeps it tight, to replicate the womb. They'd had to learn the hard way, but it was worth the effort._

"... Liv, I said you can lay down now."

"Sorry, I'm tired. It's been a long day."

"Come on then, your bed, my princess."

Olivia pops the button of her jeans and lowers the zipper as she wiggles the garment over her hips and lets them drop to her feet. She doesn't bother to fold them tonight; she leaves them in a pile and scrambles across the surface of the bed into Elliot's embrace.

"You know how to spoil a man," he says as he tugs at the elastic waistband of her briefs.

"El," Olivia mumbles, fidgeting by his side, trying to remove his hand, "They're just cotton, nothing special at all."

He notes the slight hitch in her voice, the nerves that distract her attention and the way that her body trembles slightly as he strokes her hip. He pulls back from her for a moment, framing her face with both of his hands.

"Olivia, I am not your father, I would never do that to you. Nothing is going to happen until you're ready, whether you're my wife or not. Do you hear me?"

"It's okay, I'm ready for you, if you want to do it, it's fine, Elliot."

He chuckles, enamored by her determination.

"You're braver than me, Benson. Because this will be my first time too, and I am not ready at all."

Olivia exhales a sigh of relief. She's unsure of just how he's able to fight the urges that plague him, and in the end, she figures she really doesn't want to know. She just wants to lay with him for the rest of her life.

"El, you can kiss me now."

"Right," he mumbles as his lips find the column of her neck and dance across the arc of her clavicle. His nose nudges the shell of her ear as she wraps her free arm around his neck, drawing him closer to the length of her body.

She can feel his erection through the front of his jeans; it's pressed into the flesh of her thigh. He's hard and he feels big, not that she has much to compare it with.

"Soon," she whispers. "Soon, El, I promise it will happen soon."

His thumb caresses her cheek where it rests upon her pillow supporting her head. He reassures her. She's his princess and he'll treat her as such, nobody, himself included, hurts Benson, not while Elliot Stabler is defending her honor.

"I know, Liv. I can wait ... I will wait," he corrects himself. "It will be so worth it. Hey," He says suddenly, jumping from the bed, plunging his hands deep into his pockets and pulling out the remnants of change. "How about we vibrate the night away?"

He places a quarter into the silver slot, followed by another, and thumbs the green button on the top of the bed head.

Olivia giggles as the bed starts to stutter, she beckons for Elliot to join her, folding herself in his arms as he returns to her side, propping himself up against the flat pillows.

"You're such a kid," she teases.

"This must be what it's like to have a water bed, it's like the washing machine is stuck on spin cycle. I think I'm going to be sick, Liv."

"Yuk, El, lean over the side of the bed, don't barf on me."

"Oh come on, Liv. Better out than in I always say."

"Elliot," she holds up her hand as the bed continues to shake, "I'm warning you, stay away from me Elliot Stabler."

He lunges forward with his hands either side of her body, pinning her to the mattress with the comfort of his weight between her thighs.

"El?"

"Love you, Benson." He kisses her nose, and places his lips against her own, his tongue parting her mouth and stroking her tongue before they're both engaged in a battle of desire, discovering each other, tasting the other.

"I love you too, El. Have for a long time."

"You've always had a crush on me, haven't you? I knew it. You were so into me, but you played hard to get."

"You're a jock; all the women _want_ you, El."

"And yet, here I am with you, building a relationship, one day at a time. Aint nothing going to keep us apart."

He pushes the hair that has fallen to veil her face back behind her ear and smiles.

"It's going to be alright. I'm not very good with romance, I didn't exactly have great examples, but I know that you're beautiful, and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Liv."

Olivia sniffs, trying to hide the fact that she's crying. She doesn't want him to see her as vulnerable, as something broken, that needs to be fixed. She just wants Elliot to see her as Olivia, the girl next door who loves him.

"Let's try and sleep. We have a busy week ahead of us, El."

His finger catches the errant tear that stains her cheek, and he brings the finger to his mouth, experiencing her pain.

She swallows the lump and chokes out the words that bring her the most peace.

"Love you too, Elliot Stabler."


	4. Chapter 3

**I don't own them. **

**Down to business. Thank you for encouraging me to pick up this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

For the past half hour, Olivia has done nothing but feign sleep. She's nervous and excited, such a small taste of freedom, but she and Elliot still find themselves in a tight situation and she's not really sure what to think about that, but she hopes that the strain won't hurt them, that the permanent state of excitement will guide them through the motions.

She rolls onto her side and cracks her eyelid slightly. It's still dark out; the very early morning dawn is breaking over the horizon. She has a few hours until first light.

Olivia is surprised when she hears Elliot stir beside her and his thick hand curls around the underside of her hip as his arm pulls her back into the warmth of his body. His breathing evens out again as he rests his face on the crook of her neck and Olivia smiles. She's over thinking again. This life is worthwhile, and she has to let go of the misery.

Elliot sleeps in shorts, and Olivia can feel his erection pressed up against the back of her thighs where he curls himself up behind her. His chest is flush against her back and she can feel his heart beating and she can't pinpoint the moment that he stopped becoming her best friend and became the man that she is more than willing to give herself to, the man who she hopes will become her first, and her only.

She arches her back and pushes herself against his hips, hoping to build up some friction between them. She can feel Elliot respond, growing harder. His fingers grip the flesh of her hip and suddenly he's not as sleepy as she'd initially thought.

"What are you doing, Liv?"

His breath is hot against her ear as he purrs and she clenches her thighs and bites her lip.

"I-I want y-you, El," She stutters. "I know we were going to wait, but I need this. I need you."

Elliot's fingers come away from her body and he pushes himself up into a sitting position, adjusting himself around his painful predicament.

"No. I won't do it. Not yet, you're not ready. Christ, Liv. You're not even sixteen yet. You're a minor. No. I won't do it."

Olivia turns on him then, pushing herself up onto her elbow so that she can face him, so that they can have this one out like a real couple would.

"What, so it's okay for you to fondle my breasts, it's okay for you to finger me in the middle of the night."

Elliot has the decency to look ashamed as he lowers his gaze to the bedspread at the foot of the bed.

"Yeah, you remember that, don't you, Elliot. Remember when you were buried up to the knuckle inside of me. Remember how I cried the first time?"

Elliot remembers. He remembers the way that she whimpered beside him, the way that she had gripped his shoulder as he made her come. And before he can stop to consider the consequences, he launches himself across the bed and takes her into his arms, his mouth descending upon hers as his tongue traces the line of her lips, begging for her to part them so that he can feel her run her tongue across the roof of his mouth.

Olivia eases into the kiss, having been taken by surprise.

"God, Liv. The things you do to me."

She lets herself fall into his arms, she wants to do this, she's ready and giving him permission to take this further, to love her the way that he wants to be loved. She is ready to go all the way with Elliot Stabler.

"Make love to me, El."

She pleads with her eyes and he has to stifle the groan that tries to escape his throat. It comes out like a feral moan, a cat call, and Olivia smiles; she knows how to work her boy.

"Liv, I don't know," He hesitates, running his hand up and down her arm, wrapping his fingers around her wrist as he lifts her hand to place his lips against her palm.

"It's okay, Elliot. I want you to do this; I am giving you the okay to do this. I don't care what anybody else thinks."

"I think it's going to hurt. I don't want to be the one who hurts you, Liv."

Olivia moves her hand up and under Elliot's t-shirt, her fingers brushing his abdomen, grazing their way up to his chest as she explores the plains left behind by his chiseled physique.

"Please, Elliot. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

No matter how hard he tries, Elliot cannot fight the arousal that is building inside of him. Her long, tan legs stretched out in front of him, the way that her tiny little take rides up over her midsection and the skin there is so deliciously perfect that he can't wait to lash her with his tongue.

"Shit," Elliot mutters beneath his breath, feeling himself begin to weep at the mere thought of making love to his girl.

_Girl._

And then it hits him like a lead balloon. Olivia is still a girl, a child in the eyes of some.

"Elliot," Olivia hits him with the final blow. "If you love me, then you will do this."

How can he possibly say no to her? He could count the number of wrong twists and turns, but if they get this right, if he does this for her, it can be perfect. He could have everything he has ever wanted right within the palm of his hand.

"Okay, Liv." He brushes her fringe away from her forehead and tucks the dark strands neatly behind her ear before he leans forward and grabs hold of the hem of her shirt, encouraging her to lift both arms above her head.

As she does so, Elliot rises to his knees, pulling the garment from her body and admiring her breasts, flushed with a rosy hue as Olivia tries not to let her body betray her. She tries to cover her modesty, bringing her hands up to her chest, but Elliot takes her hands in his, halting her movements and brushing his thumb across the underside of her creamy breast.

"Don't hide from me, Liv. Please, if you want me to do this, then you have to play fair, because it is taking everything I have not to stop."

Olivia throws her head back as his fingers make contact with the bud of her nipple. It's hard within seconds, tempered, as the pads of Elliot's fingertips glide across the skin where he cups her breast in the palm of his hand.

With his hands on Olivia, Elliot kicks off his shorts, pushing them over the edge of the bed before he lowers Olivia to the mattress and hovers above her on his knees. She offers a small smile which he returns in kind.

He fingers the elastic around the leg of her panties while his free hand continues to twist her nipple between thumb and forefinger.

"Raise," He says, as he lowers the undergarments down her long legs, dangling them from the end of his finger before he throws them over his shoulder and well out of sight.

He tries to tell himself that he's not a sinner, tries to fill his mind with pure thoughts, he loves Olivia, and he knows that when two people love each other, God expects them to express it to one another. He shakes his head to clear his conscience. Lust is a worldly expression, a Cardinal sin. But God help him, he wants Olivia and he is going to have her.

"Condoms, Liv? Where are the condoms?"

He pulls away from Olivia, but hesitates momentarily. He doesn't want to leave her, not like this, not when she's so vulnerable, but he doesn't really have a choice.

He rummages around in his duffel looking for the protection he knows he has packed but he comes up empty handed.

"Liv, I can't find the condoms. Have you seen them?"

Olivia shakes her head. She has not seen them. She did not even know that he had packed them.

"We need those condoms, Liv."

Olivia buries her head in the lumpy motel pillow and cries. Elliot is not sure what to think. She'd told him that she wanted this, she begged him to do it, to give himself over just as she herself would for him.

"Liv, please, Baby. Look at me. What's wrong? I thought you wanted this?"

"I do. I do." She sobs into the ratty old pillow. "I just … It's nothing. Never mind."

"Like hell," Elliot protests, he's not about to sit around and watch her cry.

Olivia looks up at him and sniffles. Elliot wipes away her tears with his thumb and smiles. "It's okay, Baby."

"I just," Olivia hiccups, trying to rush the words out. "I just thought that maybe this time we could do it without a condom. That maybe," She draws a deep, shuddering breath and exhales before she continues. "That maybe this time I could be worthy of something, worthy of someone."

"Oh, Liv. Come here."

Olivia crawls into his lap and Elliot takes her into his arms, holding her tightly within the confines of his embrace. He had no idea that she felt that way. Her whole life people have been letting her down, and while contraception goes against everything that Elliot believes in, he only ever wanted to look after her, to take care of her. He will not be the one to hurt her. Not this time, not ever.

"I want to be able to feel you, El. And, I mean, my period is due any day now. It's not like anything is going to happen."

"I want you to be safe. We can't deal with an unplanned pregnancy; we can barely take care of ourselves. And if we're being honest, I kind of think I'm going to need a condom myself. I don't want to, you know, go off early or anything."

"Oh, okay."

"But," Elliot sighs and shakes his head, he's really going to have to get used to her moods, lest it drive him insane. "If this is the way you want to do it, then this is how we will do it," He offers.

Olivia smiles, she laughs and she throws herself into Elliot's arms. He's still unsure, he wish he had somebody to confide in, somebody to ask. But instead, he says a prayer and hopes for the best. He wants nothing more in this world than to please the one and only Olivia Benson.

He parts her legs with one thick hand while the other holds her hand, their fingers are laced and he can feel her trembling beneath him. He murmurs into her hair as she holds his neck, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him as close to her as she can possibly manage.

"So beautiful," He whispers.

"El."

She's nervous, but he does all he can to set her mind at ease. He takes her hand, helps her to guide him to her sopping mound where he traces her slit and watches as her eyes close and her mouth parts slightly and she exhales a ragged breath before drawing another. He wants her to be a part of this; he's not going to take advantage. They're in this together, and no matter when they had crossed the line, it was always going to be like this.

"You're really wet, Liv. I like that. I like it a lot."

His fingers are thick as he opens her up and presses the head of his cock to her folds. Her toes curl and she grabs for his arm, her fingers digging into the muscles that support his weight and she hisses as he pushes forward, as he breaks through her resistance.

He watches her face scrunch, he watches her bite her lip, and he watches her cry out, the tears soaking into her delicate skin.

He feels like a bastard, he wants to kick his own ass for hurting her like this.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. God, Liv," He speaks into her hair as he holds her. "I am so sorry. I'm here, I've got you."

She burns his flesh, her tight, hot channel gripping his length. Her fingers claw at his back, and she begs him not to stop and he doesn't have the strength to deny her.

His hips move as he thrusts as hard as he thinks she can tolerate. His mouth finds her breasts and he leaves a wet trail as he sucks on her nipple, dragging his tongue across the tortured flesh. Her hands grip the sheet and she cries out for more. And they come together, and he holds her, and she can feel the warmth of his release as it floods her system. And they fall together, on top of the blanket, sweating and spent, but they smile at each other, knowing that they'll both be okay, as long as one has the other.

Elliot rolls them onto their sides. He's still inside of her; Olivia refuses to relinquish her hold. She's sore, she can barely move, but she's determined to hold on just a little longer.

Elliot notices that she's trembling, though at the moment, he's really not sure why.

"You're shivering. Are you cold? Here."

He pulls the blanket up over their bodies, pulling her into the curve of his body, as close as he possibly can. His stocky frame offers warmth that radiates, warming her through, from the very tips of her toes, right through her bones. It's unlike anything Olivia has ever experienced before.

"Better?"

"Yes. Thank you Elliot."

Elliot smiles and rests his chin on the crown of her head.

"I mean it. Thank you, El. For this. For you. For everything."

"You don't have to thank me. I did this for me too, for us, Liv."

"Maybe we should get some rest. We have the whole wide world to explore today, and I don't want to miss a thing."

Elliot chuckles; she has always been the curious one. He's just as happy with a beer and a re-run of the Yankees game, a cat or a dog, the simple life. He kisses her nose, and her eyes, hoping to make up for the tears that she has shed in his presence tonight, hoping to stifle the pain, just a little longer.

"Sleep tight, Olivia. I will be here when you wake up."


End file.
